


Punishment

by lindsaylohan



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Asphyxiation, Blow Jobs, Bottom!Harry, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Hand Jobs, M/M, Minor Violence, Prison, Rimming, Spanking, Top!Harry, dom!Louis, powerbottom!Louis, prison!au, top!Louis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-19
Updated: 2013-03-07
Packaged: 2017-11-29 19:59:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/690863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lindsaylohan/pseuds/lindsaylohan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is a new inmate at Wandsworth Prison, where he meets a rather intimidating  Louis Tomlinson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello this fic was written in 2012

Half of them were probably alcoholics. The majority had probably been provoked to physically hurt someone at some point or another in their lives, and probably more than a few times. And they were all in there for a significantly awful, terrible, immoral thing they’d done.

Basically this was not a place fit for Harry.

He shuffled through the cafeteria, keeping his head low and praying desperately that he wouldn’t be noticed. This was a difficult feat considering he was very tall and very noticeable.

The first night had gone terribly, as he expected. He wasn’t to be there for long, but the idea of the experience terrified him, and rightly so; the laughter directed at him wasn’t just laughter, it was laughter coming from burglars, rapists, murderers. It ended with a broken nose and a night spent in the infirmary. The general rule was: the pettier the crime, the less respect you got. And Harry was no match for the 350-pound guy who accidentally killed someone with a pint mug in a bar brawl.

Attempting to shrink clearly didn’t work. He was barely a few meters into the room when he heard the familiar guffaws. “Hey, fresh meat!”

He rolled his eyes and kept walking. Harry had never been bullied in his life; this was new to him and he didn’t quite know how to regard it, except that he fucking hated it and had no respect and no interest in getting to know any of these people.

“Ay, Styles, I’m talking to you!” Harry felt a hand swing him around to face a muscular brainless asshole, his tray slipping from his hands and falling at the feet of his captor. The crowd that flanked the criminal laughed loudly.

“What’d I do to deserve that, boy?” the man growled, gesturing at the gravy that spilled over his shoes, soaking the cuffs of his orange jumpsuit with a murky brown.

Harry sighed. “Nothing,” he replied.

“If he didn’t deserve it,” a new voice drawled from behind the burly guy, “are you trying to start a fight?” The owner of the voice walked out from the crowd, and Brainless Beef stepped aside immediately to give him room.

He was surprisingly short, no muscle to be seen, and unlike many of the other men, sported soft fringe in place of a buzz cut. He appraised Harry with bright blue orbs. “Trying to prove yourself?”

“N-no.” Harry cleared his throat.

Put him in front of a scary piece of meat that could beat him to a pulp in seconds, and he didn’t care, but the shorter boy who stood before him now made him swallow a lump that had suddenly appeared in his throat. Physically, the boy was nothing intimidating, but he obviously had something that made even the beefiest of the beef give him their respect.

“You don’t sound too sure, babe,” the boy poked a sharp finger into Harry’s chest.

“I’d just—he swung me around, I didn’t—”

The cerulean-eyed boy tsked, cutting Harry off. “You didn’t mean to? Well perhaps you need to be taught to mean what you do.” He offered a sick sort of smile, with unusually sharp canine teeth protruding through his lips.

“I—”

“Shut the fuck up, Styles,” the boy hissed at him, spitting crudely in his face.

Harry was taken aback. What the hell was going on? The terrified puppy look must have shown on his face, because the boy laughed suddenly. “You can leave,” he gestured a hand out the door.

Harry stared at his shoes as he walked out of the cafeteria, hungry. He wasn’t sure whether he should be glad to have walked away unscathed, or scared for what the future might hold.

He bumped into a blond nerdy-looking staff member on his way out, to whom he muttered “sorry” to. But the cafeteria worker’s eyes widened.

“You’re the kid who’s managed to get on Tomlinson’s bad side already?”

“Who?”

The kid shook his head. “Tommo over there, who wanted to teach you a lesson.”

Harry laughed. “There’s no way he could hurt me; not at his size.” He might be intimidated by the boy, but if it came down to bruised knuckles, he wasn’t scared.

The blond boy raised an eyebrow. “Well, uh,” he looked down, face reddening. “That’s not how he’d be hurting you.”

Harry was confused.

“I mean, as rumor has it,” the boy hurriedly added.

“As rumor has..?” Harry stared at the blond blankly. “How would he hurt me?”

He shook his head. “Maybe it’s best if you don’t know…” he trailed off. Then his face lit up. “Styles, was it? D’you want some chicken? This place has the _best_ , surprisingly.”

“I suppose.” Harry looked at him suspiciously, but his stomach growled obnoxiously loud.

“I’m Niall,” he laughed. “Come with me.”

***

“So _you’re_ the new kid, eh?”

Harry whipped around, not having noticed another occupant in the room that was to be his home for the next month. “Er, sorry, I wasn’t aware someone already has this room.”

Harry stared at the man strewn about the top bunk. He rested casually on his back, warm brown eyes lazily watching Harry.

“‘S alright, man,” the raven-haired boy easily replied. “Just got here anyway.” He shifted in the bed. “Had to switch with Lou cos they figured he deserved a single.”

Harry shook his curls out of his face and folded himself on the floor opposite his new cellmate, listening with interest. This guy didn’t seem so bad.

The bunk creaked, and the boy in it positioned himself on his stomach. Somehow his perfectly styled hair remained flawless. He laughed suddenly. “I don’t reckon he _deserves_ a single per se, but they don’t want him fucking anyone else up,” he mused.

“Erm, who’s Lou?”

The boy’s eyes swam over Harry amusedly. “Your worst nightmare, pretty much,” he replied, but his eyes danced. “Unless you really know him, in which case he’s harmless.” His eyes darkened, and he was seemingly lost in his thoughts.

Harry nodded, taking in this information.

His cellmate returned to the present, appraising Harry. “You’re Styles, right?”

The chocolate-haired boy grinned. “You can call me Harry.”

“Nice to meet you, Haaaaarreh. I’m Zayn.”

Harry wondered what Zayn could possibly be in here for. He seemed far too laid-back to care about committing a crime. But then again, Harry himself wasn’t the best example of a criminal, either.

Zayn was apparently thinking the same thoughts because he looked at Harry interestedly. “So what you in here for? You seem about as harmless as a cupcake.”

Harry chuckled at the simile. “Eh, it’s…” he shook his head.

“…a long story,” Zayn finished, and nodded knowingly. “I think most of these things are,” he said simply, not pressing Harry for further details.

Harry decided he liked Zayn.

“So this guy you mentioned, Lou? Is he your mate then?”

Zayn seemed to mull this over in his head. “Suppose so.” He shrugged, then cocked his head to the left. “Were you the cafeteria guy?”

Harry’s thoughts swam. “I..what do you mean exactly?”

The dark-haired boy chuckled, shaking his head. “ _That’s_ Lou.”

“What?” Harry stared at him incredulously.

“The one and only Louis Tomlinson.” Of course his cellmate would be his friend. Small, small world.

Harry threw a pillow at Zayn. “You’re joking.”

Zayn shook his head, “Nope. Wish I was, though. Tommo’s got a nasty habit of ‘teaching’ other people, erm, _lessons_.” He raised his fingers to put quotes around the word.

“And what kind of ‘lessons’ are those?” Harry asked slowly.

Zayn shrugged. “Dunno. I’ve only heard stories. Dunno how much of that is true, though.”

Harry nodded slowly. “Guess I’ll find out.” With that, the lights in the building flickered off, and Harry scampered into the bottom bunk to try to get some rest, without thoughts of bright blue eyes interrupting his dreams.

***

Showers were easily the worst part of prison. Sure, being locked up in a cell with a bunch of criminals was a pretty shitty life to live, but during the day, Harry was sufficiently occupied, doing chores such as helping out in the kitchens with Niall, or cleaning. Prison life, ironically enough, seemed more like a vacation than anything to Harry, once he got used to it. Which didn’t take long. There were sports classes, a game room complete with Xbox; all sorts of entertainment. Zayn had persuaded the staff to let them put a small, ancient antenna TV in their cell so the boys could keep up with football games (probably a female staff member; Zayn had the pretty-boy charm to persuade _anyone_ , really). It was kind of nice, actually, until Harry decided to shower late one night to clear his thoughts of his life before this one. He waited for the toilets to clear out to avoid the awkwardness that often came with sharing a shower, and finally slipped in, standing under the showerhead for as long as he could. The too-warm water trailed down his body, blocking out any outside noise as it cleansed his face, neck, shoulders, arms, stomach, legs, feet. Harry had never much believed in god, but if anything was holy, it was definitely hot showers.

The water suddenly spewed out in a streak of ice-cold, and Harry snapped his eyes open to come face-to-face with a very naked Louis Tomlinson. He gulped, staring into the far too blue orbs that seemed to haunt his dreams since that day in the cafeteria.

A mischievous grin played on Louis’ face. “ _Someone_ is much too greedy today…thinking of leaving me out in the cold, eh, Styles?” He tsked.

“Erm, I just—just wanted a shower, sorry, I’ll—” Harry stumbled over his words, mentally slapping himself for acting such a fool. The cold water was distracting, and he felt goosebumps rising in every inch of his skin.

“You’ll what?” Louis prompted. “Warm me up, then? I think you owe me at least that.” His eyes twinkled.

Harry could barely register what the bold boy in front of him suggested before he felt himself being whipped around and slammed into the cold, hard, slippery tile of the shower behind him. The water warmed to a comfortable temperature, but Harry was far from comfortable, especially when he felt hot breath on his neck. He was too aware of Louis’ chest being pressed firmly into his own back, and his breath hitched. It seemed like every pore of his body was suddenly hypersensitive.

“What are you doing?” he mumbled, almost too low to hear over the gush of the running water.

“Teaching you a lesson, babe,” Louis whispered back in his ear. He ran a small hand down Harry’s back, stopping on the crevice that curved inward right above his ass.

It was strange to be held down like this by someone Harry could easily overpower…physically, at least. He felt that despite this fact, there was no way he was getting out of Louis’ grasp.

“You’ve been a very naughty boy..obviously, since you’re here,” the smaller boy murmured to Harry, mouth mere centimeters from his skin. It was odd how perfectly Louis seemed to fit into the crook of Harry’s shoulder.

Harry’s thoughts were swimming a million miles a second, each one more incoherent than before. What had Louis intended to do?

“What did you do, hmm? What’d you do to get in here?” The hand on his back moved to his hip, sliding lower and lower down Harry’s thigh.

Harry stiffened under Louis’ hold. “I’d rather not answer that.”

His response was greeted with silence.

His mind didn’t register the slap at first; the sound seemed to echo obnoxiously through the room. He finally felt the harsh sting on his bum and realized it was a result of Louis’ hand.

“I don’t think that was the right response.” Louis’ voice transformed from saccharine to ice-cold. He leaned into Harry, now resting both hands firmly on his hips. A blatant erection pressed into Harry’s ass, which startled the taller boy enough for a slight jump, reminding him of each of the boys’ stark nudity.

“Let’s try that again, shall we?” Louis suggested.

“I’m not answering that,” Harry firmly reinstated.

Another sharp slap came down upon his other cheek. To his surprise and embarrassment, Harry felt himself harden against the wet tile in front of him. He squirmed, trying to ease the throbbing pain in his bum.

Louis chuckled breathily, peeking over Harry’s shoulder at the sight.

Harry’s thoughts raced. How far would Louis go with this? Harry wasn’t gay, as far as he knew, and he certainly didn’t want the stereotypical ‘full prison experience’. But the way Louis rested his chin on Harry’s shoulder was strangely not uncomfortable.

“Think I’ll leave that bum of yours to rest tonight,” Louis decided. He bit Harry’s shoulder lightly. “However,” he murmured, “I’m still cold, and you’ve yet to warm me up…”

Harry turned slowly to face his captor. He almost gasped at how different Louis looked. His soft light brown fringe was now dark, flattened against his forehead. His five o’clock shadow glistened as the water ran down his face. Murky blue lustful eyes stared back into Harry’s own.

Without thinking, Harry reached out a hand and pushed back Louis’ hair so it was slicked back on his head. Louis widened his eyes, and the corners of his mouth curled into a small smile.

“What do you want me to do?” Harry quietly asked.

The shorter boy placed his small hands on Harry’s shoulders. Suddenly Harry felt himself being slammed down. Pain shot up through his nerves as his knees hit the hard floor of the shower sharply. His wet curls had fallen into his eyes, and Louis reached out to brush them out of the way. “You’re gonna suck, babe,” murmured Louis softly.

With that, he pushed his fully erect cock in Harry’s face, pushing the tip just past Harry’s slightly parted lips. Harry looked up at Louis through his eyelashes, emerald eyes blazed with fear. The feeling was fleeting, and looking into Louis’ warm lust-filled eyes was strangely comforting. He wrapped his dark pink lips around the head of Louis’ cock and let Louis push it farther into his throat until he was almost choking. The boy towering over Harry glanced down and moaned. “You look so good like that, babe…your lips are ridiculous.”

Harry licked a broad stripe on the underside of Louis’ cock. His hand immediately went to his own cock, which was hard as rock now. His other hand gently grasped Louis’ balls and began to rub.

“No, no, no.” Louis leaned down and swatted away Harry’s hand. “You don’t touch yourself until I say so.” His blown pupils added an astonishing effect to his sparkling eyes; Harry now didn’t care what his standards were, he just wanted to feel as good as he was making Louis feel.

It took barely a few minutes of Harry bobbing up and down Louis’ length for the smaller boy to let out a strangled noise and spill down Harry’s throat, who obediently swallowed and licked every last drop.

Harry looked up at Louis, hands folded in his lap, awaiting.

Louis chuckled at the sight—Harry’s hard, unattended cock juxtaposed with his childlike innocent green eyes…this was perfect, really.

The water ran lukewarm now, and the midnight curfew lights were about to be shut off. “Thanks, mate.” Louis patted Harry’s head affectionately, and promptly turned around, stepped out of the shower, and left the room, leaving a very confused, very horny Harry sitting on the cold tile floor, freezing water dripping down his furrowed eyebrows.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is a new inmate at Wandsworth Prison, where he meets a rather intimidating Louis Tomlinson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bit of a filler, but I promise the next one will be more interesting :)

The daily sharp rap on the cell door awoke Harry with a start. He could hear Zayn moan grumpily above him; he was always the worst in the mornings. Nothing quite felt out of place until Harry attempted to sit up, immediately regretting the action because his bum was still stinging. The events of the night before flashed through Harry's mind—the spanking, the..blowjob, and worst of all, the ridiculously painful hard-on Louis left him with, which he managed to take care of when he came back to his cell, knowing that Zayn would be too dead asleep to hear a thing. He tried to forget how he'd moaned Louis' name under his breath as he came all over his fist.

Harry's ears burned. What had any of that meant? In the frenzied rush of orgasm, his thoughts would not cooperate coherently and he decided to blame it on that; just a sexual requirement that was long in need of being met.

It was— _nothing_.

Harry flipped the TV on, watching some music channel present a popstar by the name of Liam Payne. It was fairly good, so he sat in content silence as he waited for Zayn to wake up.

"He's quite good," Zayn's voice remarked quietly from above.

"You're awake!" Harry exclaimed in surprise.

Zayn hummed in affirmation. "The voice woke me up."

"Sorry," Harry quickly apologized. No one ever wished to be on the receiving end of Zayn's moodiness if he was awoken too early.

"No, it's..it's nice. To be woken up like that."

Harry wasn't sure if Zayn was being sarcastic or... "Did you somehow manage to sneak some pot past security?"

Zayn just laughed at him, climbing down to sit with Harry on the bottom bunk to watch the programme. "No, man. Couldn't do that even if I wanted to; they keep an eye on me with that stuff."

"What do you mean?" Harry was intrigued.

Zayn shrugged. "I'm in here for a drug bust," he said simply.

"Oh."

Zayn looked back at Harry, an amused grin blossoming on his face as he took in Harry's expression. "I'm not some big bad cokehead, I promise. Just sold the stuff. Which, in my opinion, isn't a big deal—I mean it's not fucking meth or heroin, you know? Just a bit of snow to lighten the day." He shook his head. "Fucking government takes everything so seriously."

Harry leaned back again, trying to maintain his cool, but in reality he felt just like the time he walked in on his older sister having sex with her boyfriend when he was twelve years old—a virginal infant. Which is what he was now, as well. Not virginal in the sexual sense necessarily, but virgin to this sort of environment, this atmosphere of fearless greats, who'd been brave enough, stupid enough, or sick enough to break the law. Harry was neither brave nor sick; maybe just a little bit stupid, but surely not possessing whatever quality made prison a fit place for a person to be.

Zayn laughed again. "It's cute, actually, how...innocent you are."

"I'm not _innocent_ ," Harry insisted. "Look where I am!"

Zayn rolled his eyes. "You've got a point, but I doubt whatever you did was actually bad." He put a hand on Harry's shoulder when he saw the fleeting look of fear on the curly-haired boy's face. "Don't worry; you don't have to tell me what it was."

Harry's face relaxed, and he turned his head back to the television.

"Now _there's_ someone innocent," Zayn mumbled softly. "You'd never find him in a place like this."

"This Liam guy?" Harry was surprised.

Zayn blushed. "Yeah, I mean..he's no different than when he won X Factor two years ago. Two albums later he's still this innocent puppy."

They watched Liam's eyes crinkle as he chuckled at some ridiculous cheesy joke an interviewer made on the screen.

Harry watched Zayn's face soften at the sight of the popstar and it hit him: "You've got a sappy little celebrity crush on him, don't you!"

Zayn whipped his head around to stare at Harry, his too-long eyelashes fluttering as he stumbled for the right words to say. "No! I mean—yeah, like..he's a brilliant singer, you know? But not like, I mean—" His face seemed to go from rose pink to fuchsia in a matter of seconds.

Harry guffawed an embarrassing laugh, after which he clapped a hand over his mouth, reddening. His hand left his mouth finally, exposing wide-toothed grin that reached his ears. "That's so cuuuuuute; Zayn's got himself a crush!"

"And who might that be?" Louis' voice interrupted the cheery atmosphere of the room. He glanced at the boys lazily through the bars. "You gonna let me in?"

Zayn scrambled for the TV remote, hastily shutting it off and nodding at the security guard that stood beside Louis to open the door.

The guard left, and Louis appraised the boys with a raised eyebrow, reaching a hand up to brush his fringe out of his eyes. "Well, make some room! What are we watching?"

Zayn shifted farther into the wall, and Harry followed suit, mentally cursing at Zayn for taking that side, because now Louis was climbing into the bunk beside Harry.

"We were just, uh, watching the music channel," Zayn answered, looking up at the clock that hung on the opposite wall.

"Yeah, Zayn was saying how he had a crush on—"

Zayn threw Harry a look that threatened death.

"—Rihanna," Harry finished helpfully.

"Hm," Louis grabbed the remote and turned the TV back on. Luckily, Liam's bit was over, and they were now discussing Taylor Swift's new single.

Louis glanced back at Harry. "It's funny you say that, Haz," Harry flinched at the nickname. "Because we all know Zayn isn't one bit attracted to girls," he stated matter-of-factly, not looking at either boy, but the smug glint in his eye was evident.

Harry turned to look at Zayn, who averted his eyes in embarrassment. "You—? I'm sorry, I didn't.."

Louis patted Harry's thigh (which should have made Harry's skin crawl, but instead the stinging in his bum suddenly became more pronounced). "It's all good, babe; how could you have known?"

"It's fine, Harry," Zayn replied curtly, shutting Louis up.

They sat in silence for the next song, something that was incredibly shitty and incredibly catchy in equal parts.

Louis spoke up again. "Let me guess...Liam Payne?"

Zayn blushed. "Lou, please."

Louis cackled in response. " _Still_?" he asked incredulously.

Harry looked at Louis in confusion, who smirked at him. "Did you know that Zayn here—"

" _Harry_ ," Zayn cut Louis off again, more persistently this time. "Harry, where were you last night? I wasn't awake to see you come in," he asked conversationally.

It was Harry's turn to blush. "I was just in the showers." He watched a Pepsi advert with keen interest, refusing to look at either boy beside him. He could _feel_ the heat radiating off Louis' body, his shit-eating grin.

"You don't often take such long showers, Harry; were you having a much-needed wank?" He teased Harry, laughing.

Harry stared at Drew Brees drinking soda from a blue can. "Yeah, that's exactly what I was doing," he answered dryly.

"You sure about that, Haz?" Louis' words forced Harry to turn and look at the blue-eyed creature beside him, and a pleading look spread on Harry's face.

But the blue eyes kept glimmering wickedly. Louis reached his hand up from underneath the pillow, holding a crumpled tissue. "Cos I think you had a wank in your _bed_ , not the showers."

"Oh, _Harry,_ ew! While I was in the room? How could you!" Zayn scrunched his nose up in disgust.

"I wasn't—" Harry's face reddened deeply. He faced Louis, begging him with his eyes to retract his words somehow.

But Louis just grinned at Harry in triumph.

***

The cafeteria had become a common place for Harry to be found in now. Niall made some incredible food—and tended to eat most of it, too—and the threat of Louis was gone. After that initial night in the showers, Louis left Harry alone, only interacting with him if he had a snarky comment to make, or if they hung out with Zayn together. Harry felt an odd sting of rejection at this, which he brushed away hastily because why should he feel rejected if some crazy convict finally left him alone after practically raping him?

Oddly enough, the rest of the guys who had bothered Harry at first left him alone as well, which he'd hoped was due to his new established friendship with an infamous cocaine dealer, but he had an inkling that it wasn't quite that.

So Harry tried to spend as much time as he could with Niall, the first person to show him any kindness in the prison.

Niall was carefree, optimistic, interesting, and had an unhealthy obsession with food (which made no sense to Harry because Niall was skinny as a stick and to his knowledge had never even entered a gym in his life).

Harry had asked the blond what exactly made him want to ever work in a prison, and Niall merely shrugged and explained that he needed a job. And besides, it had its perks; he was paid very decently, he could always be around food, and watching a bunch of criminals interact with each other was possibly better than any soap opera ever made.

Niall showed Harry the golf course that the prison had behind the barbed wire fence walls that surrounded the buildings, where the two boys bonded over their passion for the sport.

Befriending Niall had its advantages; Harry had permission to go places he wouldn't normally be able to go, especially with his status as 'newbie'. Harry spent some of his more sleepless nights golfing by himself, trying to throw his thoughts away with each smack of the putt hitting the ball.

After a particularly hard hit (Harry sincerely hoped the ball hasn't gone over the fence or else Niall would bitch at him), he heard a steady applause come from behind him.

He whipped around to see a familiar pair of sparkling blue eyes with the usual glint of mischief staring at him.

"Well done, Styles." Louis' smile was sincere this time.

"Thanks...I guess." Harry really wasn't in the mood to be emotionally wrecked by Louis and his hidden motives again.

Harry lined up the ball again, trying to ignore Louis' presence. This was difficult to do with Louis suddenly mere centimetres behind him. Harry swallowed the lump in his throat. "Stop distracting me."

"Am I doing that?" Louis whispered, snaking his small hands over Harry's larger ones, which grasped the golf club tightly. "What am I doing to distract you? You gonna go have a wank over me in your bed again?" He pressed himself t Harry's back, folding himself over the other boy despite being much smaller.

Harry refused to feel this humiliated again. He could sense Louis smirking beside him. "Just—just get away from me, Louis." Harry pushed him away. "I don't have time for your bullshit right now."

Louis' eyes flickered with something that looked like hurt, but Harry was too irritated to care.

"You have all the time in the world, babe," Louis spat at him. "You're in _prison_ ; it's about time you face that ugly fact. What are you in here for, anyways?"

Harry narrowed his eyes at Louis. "I don't think that's any of your business. Besides, why do you care so much, huh?"

Louis seemed to be taken aback at Harry's uncharacteristic accusatory tone. "I know everything that goes on here," he replied vaguely.

"Probably cos you're never getting out, am I right?" Harry didn't know where his sudden bravery came from. "Probably cos you're stuck here so long that you decided to make this place your playground. Must've done something really shitty if you've got these meatheads worshiping you left and right."

Louis gritted his teeth, taking a step closer to Harry until they were breathing the same air. "You don't know a fucking _thing_ about my life, Styles."

Harry pressed his lips into a flat line. "And you don't deserve to know a thing about mine."

Louis laughed harshly in his face. "What, some poor little rich boy accident, I bet? You're never gonna fit in here, babe, no matter how hard you try, no matter how many connections you've got, how many people you manage to charm the pants off with those goddamn curls. You're _nothing_ here."

Harry threw him a look that mixed outrage and hurt all at once, and promptly turned around and walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aw a bit of ziam pining for you there! we'll see where that goes


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is where the rape/noncon warning comes in. also, I would like to add that I have the first five chapters pre-written, so they'll be coming up pretty quickly, but I'm a lazy writer so tbh I don't know how often the next bits will be coming.

"Mr. Styles, your actions will not go unpunished," the Armani-suited man before Harry sternly stated.

He'd heard this phrase a million times before, it seemed. Harry suppressed the urge to roll his eyes at the fifth government official/lawyer/case handler/whatever that he'd encountered that day. "I realise that, sir," he responded appropriately.

"You are sentenced to an official final decision of ten years, as recorded in document; depending on the propriety of your behaviour and available prison occupancy, you may, and most likely will be, released earlier. The aftermath of your sentence follows with a five-year probation period among other restrictions." Mr. Armani-clad pushed another piece of paper in front of Harry. "Sign here if this is understood."

"Other restrictions include..?" Harry hovered his hand above the signature line, not wanting to bother to read the entire document.

"Monitoring of any and all computers you might own, monthly house searches..." the lawyer's voice trailed off.

Harry almost snorted. "Sounds about right." He scribbled a messy signature on the line. "How long with good behaviour then?"

Armani Suit coughed awkwardly. "If I might be frank with you, Mr. Styles, your crime isn't nearly as severe as many others' here, at least on a physical and moral level, no matter how dangerously serious it was," he pointed out. "I predict for it to be no more than two or three years, with a ten-year probation period afterward."

Harry nodded to himself, humming lightly. Things were looking up. He could be out of here in a mere few years, move to America, and pretend that none of this ever happened.

A heavy weight fell on him, as it did every time he remembered that he'd actually committed a serious crime. No matter how much money he had (Louis was right about that part), no matter how elite his family was, there was no way he could get out of the case with a simple fine and community service. Harry was only twenty-two, and he'd already managed to fuck up this quickly in his life.

He idly wondered what it was exactly that Louis had done. Obviously it was something huge considering the fact that there was no way Louis would be able to get such a following merely based on his snide, cocky attitude. Did he kill someone? No, Harry thought to himself; it wasn't possible for Louis to do something like that. He didn't know what made him so sure, but despite Louis' harshness and cruelty, Harry couldn't imagine him ending anyone's life.

But then again, none of the people he spent every day with seemed capable of murder—it terrified Harry that some of them had. He didn't want to think of Louis doing something like that.

In fact, he didn't want to think of Louis at all. For some reason, the memory of the previous week's shower seemed to throb in Harry's head and it felt like the taste of Louis in his mouth never went away. His ass wasn't sore anymore, which was..good. He had briefly considered telling someone about it, but figured all the prison monitor would do is laugh in his face if he confessed to giving someone a blowjob in the showers. Besides, Harry didn't feel traumatised by it, really; he wasn't sure what rape was supposed to feel like, but this was Louis and that was that, he decided.

The blue-eyed boy was nowhere to be seen all week; his absence both relieved Harry and made him slightly uncomfortable all at once.

"Hey, faggot, watch where you're going!" Meathead #748 pushed Harry into a door as he rounded the corner, almost bumping into the guy.

Harry sighed. Being Zayn's mate had its perks, but it sure didn't seem to help him, especially when Zayn spent most of his days holed up in their cell, only coming out for required service hours and meal times. Harry made his way back to their cell, expecting having to comfort Zayn once more in his hopeless obsession with Liam Payne.

The sight that greeted him, however, was something he didn't expect at all.

The tiny TV was gone, as were the rest of Zayn's belongings. Harry wondered if he had perhaps stepped into the wrong hall; the layout of the place was the same on both ends of the building, but he knew at once that this was where he was to be sleeping that night when a familiar tuft of feathery brown hair peeked out from a pillow, followed by those annoyingly bright azure eyes.

"Miss me?" Louis asked playfully. He stood up, brushing his hair out of his eyes, and appraised Harry.

"Are you fucking kidding me," the curly-haired boy deadpanned.

Louis just smirked in response. "Oh, come on; not everything's about you. I just figured I'd let Zayn have the single—that way he can sulk and leave kisses all over the TV screen in peace."

Harry shook his head. "I just remembered I have some service work to do."

He would _not_ let himself be victimised by this bastard. Although Louis didn't seem like much of a threat at the moment, Harry hated feeling uncomfortable around people—and with Louis, that was all he ever seemed to feel, his breath hitching, heart pounding; the boy made him inexplicably nervous.

***

"Fooooooooore!"

The ball almost hit Harry in the eye.

He reeled around in mock fury to see Niall laughing hysterically. "Could have taken my eye out, you twat!" Harry shouted across the vast green grass.

Niall was still chuckling as he made his way to where Harry stood, bouncing the little white ball in his palm.

"Eh, you're alright, mate. Although a purple eye would've matched quite well with your curly locks," Niall guffawed at Harry's sullen face in response to his words.

"In fact, I think you'd make quite a pretty girl, Styles," Niall continued. "You've already got the lips for it."

Harry furrowed his eyebrows. "What in hell does _that_ mean?"

Niall looked down, suppressing a grin. "Everyone says you've got some of the pinkest lips they've seen."

Harry's thoughts flashed back to Louis' cock in his face-- _You look so good like that, babe...your lips are ridiculous_. He shivered at the memory.

"You cold, Haz? It's the middle of summer!" Niall exclaimed.

"No, I just...I dunno really." Harry shifted on one foot, suddenly having no desire to continue golfing.

"Haz! I see you're having fun doing service work," Louis' voice called out. Harry turned around to see the boy approaching them.

"I was..I was just playing golf with Niall," Harry muttered.

Niall but his lip worriedly. "Listen, mate, you're already knackered from golfing; you can go with Louis," he suggested, not wanting to begin some sort of awkward rivalry with the twisted blue-eyed boy.

"I..." Harry looked from one boy to the other, slumping his shoulders and following Louis as he sauntered away.

***

Surprisingly enough, Louis hadn't sprung anything weird on Harry. They had dinner together, with Louis chattering on about various new guys who've just been imprisoned. Harry found himself almost enjoying himself as he listened to Louis' rants.

"...I mean, don't you think he belongs in an _mental hospital_? Who even does that?" Louis shook his head.

Zayn was right, in a way; Louis was completely harmless when he wasn't trying to be a dictator. Harry wondered if perhaps this was due to Louis' established control over Harry already.

With his guard let down, Louis tended to make plenty of stupid jokes, most of which were unfunny, but Harry grinned at him anyway because his animated nature was somehow endearing; Louis was born to be the center of attention.

"Well," Louis wiped his mouth, "this was nice. See you back at the cell." He stood up.

"Oh, you're—are you going somewhere?" Harry mentally cursed himself for his awkward phrasing.

Louis smirked at him. "Why, Harry? You gonna miss me?"

Harry opened and closed his mouth. "I just..." He coughed. "Just wondering."

Louis grinned at him, patting Harry's head affectionately. "Bye, Haz."

Harry swallowed a lump he hadn't realized was in his throat.

He decided to visit Zayn, who was sleeping in his bunk, unsurprisingly.

"Wake up, sleepyhead!" Harry pounced on him.

"Blughhjskdjfjjd," Zayn groaned. "Get off me, you tosspot."

Harry grinned at the raven-haired boy brightly. "You stink, you know that?"

Zayn rolled his eyes. "Excuse me if smoking is one of the few pleasures I find in life anymore."

"Oh, come on, life isn't so bad," Harry argued.

Zayn appraised him suspiciously. "I'm guessing you got good news from your lawyer?"

"A few years," Harry said proudly.

Zayn smiled lightly. "You got lucky, huh." His smile didn't reach his eyes.

Harry's face fell. "How long for you?" he asked quietly.

"Twelve." Zayn pressed his lips into a tight line. "I've served three so far."

Harry nodded slowly. "I'm sorry, Zayn." He reached over to hug the other boy.

They sat like that for another hour with the TV on, idly watching some drama show.

But Harry couldn't concentrate; a new thought entered his mind and refused to leave. "Why's Louis in here?" he dared to ask, not meeting Zayn's eyes.

"You don't know?" Zayn seems surprised.

Harry shook his head. "I don't know if I _want_ to know, honestly, but my curiosity is getting the best of me."

Zayn looked up, his eyebrows furrowed in thought. "I don't know if I'm the one to tell you," he muttered finally. "You should ask Lou himself; I don't want to...put the wrong ideas in your head, I guess."

Harry nodded, but he didn't understand, not really. "I think I'm gonna head off to bed."

Harry hadn't realised how late it had gotten; the 11:55 warning lights flickered, and he had to run to the other side of the building to get to his cell before lights out, but he also really needed to piss.

After leaving the toilet, he turned the corner, only to run into two burly guys roaming the halls.

"Sorry," Harry mumbled.

"Oh, look who it is...the new boy." One man with a buzzcut smirked at the other.

"How old d'you reckon he is?" the other, a goateed guy asked, ignoring Harry.

"Looks like a pretty little kid, eh?"

Harry sighed. "Look, I'm really not in the mood for this."

The guy with the buzzcut laughed harshly. "I don't really think it matters what _you're_ in the mood for, babe."

Harry gulped. "Guys—"

The lights flickers off for the night, only leaving one dim yellow bulb that was meant for the entire hall. The men's faces were shadowed, appearing even more menacing now.

"Think he'll be useful for anything?" One of the guys turned to the other.

"Oh, I have _just_ the idea for what that might be."

They grabbed Harry, who had no chance now with men both twice his size. He was shoved into the far corner of the hall hard, out of sight.

They fondled him, pushing him against the wall, grabbing at his jumpsuit, unsticking the velcro that held the orange suit together.

"Look at those pretty little curls." Their hot breath was all over Harry's neck. He felt large hands tug at his hair fiercely. Sloppy, dirty kisses were planted all across his neck, his face.

The goateed man pushed his palm into Harry's crotch, trying to get his cock up. "How bout we get that pretty little package out, hmm?"

Harry couldn't respond. He couldn't move; this was terrifying. This wasn't Louis in the showers—this was his worst nightmare. He prayed he could live through this, shutting his eyes tightly, wishing it would all go away, wishing he would wake up and this would all be a dream.

"Maybe we can get that ass out too, eh?" the guy with the buzzcut suggested. "Bet it's tight as fuck in there."

"Let go of me!" Harry screamed, struggling against the firm grasp of the men. But he knew it was no use. He tried to bite the men's shoulders, attempting to escape from their hold.

All he got in return was a laugh: "Oh, our boy likes it rough, huh?"

"He's not _your_ boy; let him the fuck go," a cold voice interrupted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bit of a cheesy cliffhanger? hope you guys like it so far :)


	4. Chapter 4

Harry felt himself fall to the ground as he was released.

"Erm, sorry, Lou," the man with the goatee apologised quickly, looking at the ground.

Harry watched, crouched on the ground, as Louis stomped up to Buzzcut and grabbed him by his shirttail. "He will never be _yours_. He's _mine_ , and no one else's. Understood?"

Buzzcut nodded quickly.

If it weren't happening to him, happening right in front of him, Harry might have found this sight amusing; a short boy with an average build scaring away a man at least twice his size, a man who could easily beat him to a pulp, crush him lazily with one hand. Yet Louis held all the power.

The meatheads scampered off, and Louis' blue eyes softened as he found Harry's green ones. He reached a hand out, helping a wobbly Harry to his feet. "You okay, babe?"

Harry nodded, then shook his head. He looked up at Louis and blinked. At once, tears began to stream down his face.

"Shh, baby, it's okay," Louis soothed him, leading the way back to their cell.

Louis spread Harry out across the bottom bunk, taking off his jumpsuit so that he remained in a wifebeater and his pants, and laid next to him, holding Harry as he buried himself into Louis' side.

"It's okay, Harry, you're with me now. They'll never hurt you again."

Harry hiccuped, snuggling closer to Louis.

"I'll never let anyone hurt you," Louis promised.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" Harry whispered, looking at the wall.

Louis nudged Harry, forcing him to look at his face. "Why wouldn't I be nice to you?" He looked at Harry earnestly.

The curly-haired boy shrugged. "It's just...in the showers, and how you act with everyone—" he struggled to find the right words.

Louis sat up, turning to face Harry. "I'm not the monster everyone thinks I am, Haz," he said quietly. "Despite what the past may hold."

"And what does the past hold, exactly?"

The look that sprang on Louis' face mirrored that of Zayn's earlier: surprise and worry. "You don't know?"

"Zayn wouldn't tell me..." Harry trailed off.

Louis nodded to himself thoughtfully, then looked back at Harry with an unreadable expression on his face. "Later."

He moved so that he was on top on Harry now, and waited for that same petrified look to return to Harry's face as it did with the two meatheads. But Harry simply stared back at Louis with curiosity.

"Are you going to spank me?" the green-eyed boy asked shyly.

Louis shook his head with disbelief. "No, baby, no; not tonight."

Instead he pushed himself back until his face was level with Harry's crotch. He looked up at Harry's wondrous face through his eyelashes. "Gonna make you feel good, Haz. You deserve that."

Harry nodded slowly, not taking his eyes off Louis as the blue-eyed boy tucked his nimble fingers in the waistband of Harry's boxers, slipping them off inch by inch. At this point, Harry was sporting a semi, which Louis quickly changed by kissing the head of Harry's cock. Harry whimpered softly and Louis grinned up at him.

To Harry's surprise, Louis left his cock alone and pressed another kiss to the edge of his hole. He felt Louis circle his tongue around the tight ring of muscle, blowing on it, which caused Harry to emit a rather embarrassing moan.

"You like that, hmm, baby?" Louis murmured against Harry's skin.

"Yes," Harry breathed.

Louis moved his attention to Harry's thighs, pressing open-mouthed kisses down his inner thigh, sucking dark bruises into Harry's soft, porcelain skin.

"Mmf, Lou, no—go back," Harry pleaded incoherently.

Louis looked up at him, smirking. "Tell me what you want, baby."

"Want your tongue—back, back down..there," Harry blushed.

Louis grinned at him once more before focusing his attention on Harry's ass again. He licked around the hole a bit, liking the sound of Harry moaning at this. Then he dipped his tongue into Harry, not expecting Harry's violent thrusts back in response.

It was only a few minutes like this, with Louis licking his way into Harry's hole, the boy beneath him pushing back in perfect rhythm, before Harry was spurting in hot pulses, painting his own stomach white.

"Oh, fuck—Lou!" Harry groaned as Louis continued to thrust his tongue into Harry through his orgasm.

The last shudder finally left Harry, and Louis climbed on top of him again, straddling him. He leaned down until he was hovering over Harry. "Was that good, babe?"

Harry nodded, smiling sleepily.

Louis grinned back at him, and leaned down further, closing the space between them. He kissed Harry hesitantly, biting Harry's lower lip softly. Louis' tongue pushed past Harry's obscene pink lips. Harry kissed back eagerly, deeper into Louis' mouth until it was a bit sloppy, but neither of them cared because it was a nice kind if sloppy, a kind of sloppy that left them both gasping for air.

Finally, Louis pulled back from Harry, the corners of his mouth tugging up again. He liked Harry like this—red-faced and breathless, his eyes both wild and sleepy all at once.

"Could feel you there," Harry commented, grinning up at Louis. He nodded his head at Louis still-hard cock, which, in the spur of things, both of them seemed to have forgotten about.

"Oops," Louis chuckled, lifting himself up off Harry. He laid down next to Harry in the tiny bunk.

"I could help you with that, if you want," Harry offered.

Louis raised his eyebrows at him, but Harry just turned over and lifted himself until he was on top of Louis. He awkwardly tugged off Louis' pants, exposing his throbbing hard-on.

The smaller boy stared up at Harry, wondering what he would do next. Harry determinedly reached a hand out and grasped Louis' cock, squeezing slightly. It felt weird in his hand, out of place, almost, because normally in this position, holding the only other cock he'd ever held in his life, he'd be feeling something, too. But he wasn't; instead, the pleasure was evident on Louis' face as he closed his eyes. Harry took this as a sign to go further. He squeezed tighter, moving his large hand up and down Louis' cock.

"God, Harry—yes, _more_ ," Louis begged.

Harry rubbed his thumb over the head of Louis' cock, and pushed his hand back down quickly, settling on a fast rhythm as he got Louis squirming.

It was nice, in a strange way—to see someone in the throes of pleasure all because of him; it made Harry pleased with himself. He liked seeing Louis with a sheen of sweat on his face, his usually perfectly styled hair mussed up, bucking his hips into Harry's hand as his head arched back into the pillow.

Louis came almost instantly, something that made Harry quite proud of himself as this was a first-time experience.

"Mmm, that was so good babe. Come back here," Louis murmured to the green-eyed boy.

Harry leaned back down, settling into Louis' body as they kissed each other lazily, not caring about hygienics as the almost-dried cum on their stomachs mixed together.

***

Harry woke up to find Louis gone; he'd gotten up to see if perhaps he'd moved up to his own bunk, but Louis was nowhere to be found.

The cold sheets seemed colder somehow, and the absence of the usual morning TV chattering made everything too quiet.

Harry didn't know how to feel. He wanted to just go back to sleep, bury himself in the sheets and make the world go away. A sense of worry tugged at him, making him wonder if Louis had just done it to do it, just as...a friend, almost. A way to make Harry forget that two disgusting meatheads were about to _rape_ him. Harry shouldn't have expected him to stick around; waking up together was something couples did, not two male cellmates.

Harry felt dirty, wanting to scrub off every inch of his skin, make his body forget that anything had happened.

So he did just that, standing under the showerhead for what seemed like hours. He thought back to his mother, his sister, wondering how their lives continued on in the midst of such a scandal. He wondered if their lives had changed drastically, wondered if it was all his fault. Neither of them had taken the time to visit him, or write a letter, and he realised that none of his so-called friends had either. He really and truly was alone now.

It might only be a few years, but how was he going to survive this? Three years stuck with crazy people, people who would abuse him both physically and mentally, people who were fucked up more than he was. Harry's life fell apart—a row of dominoes, pushed over by one little event, one mistake, and now he had nothing; best friends consisting of a moody, depressed ex-drug dealer in love with a fantasy, and another who tried to make the most of a life that was clearly leading nowhere (no matter how good he was at golfing and cooking). And Louis, whatever Louis was to him. Not a lover, really, but not a friend. Not an enemy, either. But someone who remained a constant thought in Harry's head, no matter how hard he tried to get rid of it.

Harry returned to bed, having missed breakfast already, and somehow just missed the chores call, so he was left in an empty hallway, clutching the sheets tightly in his empty cell.

A few hours later, a persistent knocking awoke Harry. Heart pounding, he opened his eyes not to see Louis, as he expected, but a frowning staff member.

"Styles?" Harry nodded. "You're wanted downstairs. You got a visitor."

Oh, the irony, Harry thought, following the guard, who he still couldn't decide if it was a man or a woman.

He entered the visitors room, where his sister greeted him with a tight smile.

"Gemma Styles?" The guard looked to Harry for confirmation.

"Yep," Harry nodded, sitting down across from his sister.

Gemma stared at Harry blankly, taking in his orange jumpsuit, the cuffs that bound his wrists. She shook her head, springing up from the seat, and attacked Harry with a suffocating hug.

"I've missed you so much, Harry!" She mumbled into his shoulder. "Sorry I couldn't visit you earlier; they wouldn't let me." She rolled her eyes.

Harry grinned. His sister was easily his favourite person in the world. "I'm glad to see you, Gem."

She looked around the room, wrinkling her nose at the other guys. "Is everyone here either a stick-thin druggie hobo or some psychotic muscle-builder?"

Harry laughed. "Seems that way. I don't fit in too well."

Gemma grabbed her brother's hand across the table. "You'll get through this," she promised. "It's not forever."

Harry nodded. "Did they tell you that I can get out in just a few years?"

Gemma's face lit up. "That's wonderful, Harry!"

"Apparently I'm not menacing enough to be stuck in here with all the rapists and murderers," Harry joked.

Gemma shook her head. "You'd think it'd be for longer...I mean, with what you did and all." She looked up at Harry hesitantly.

He sighed in return. "You can say it; I committed a crime. After all, I'm sitting in front of you with fucking handcuffs on my wrists."

Gemma swallowed. "Yeah, but...well, I dunno." She frowned slightly, looking at her lap, then looked back up at Harry suddenly. "You never told me..." she tried to choose her words carefully, "why you did it."

Harry shrugged. "It was stupid. I was just messing about. Didn't think I was good enough to go that far. It was all a joke to me."

Gemma sighed. "You and your computers. 'Oops, I hacked into the government's confidential database!'"

Harry clenched his jaw. "You know it wasn't like that. I've been yelled at enough for this, if you hadn't realised."

"I'm sorry, Haz...I just," his sister exhaled loudly. "I just wish things were different, you know? Wish Mum wasn't so harsh on you. Wish things were back to normal."

Harry shifted in his seat. The cuffs were biting into his wrists now. "Just gotta move forward, I guess." He realised how true his words were.

Gemma nodded in agreement. "You'll be out of here before you know it!" She smiled sadly.

They sat in silence for a while, Harry looking up at the paint that had come off the corners in the ceiling.

"How's Mum, anyway?" he asked quietly.

Gemma pressed her lips into a tight line. "Distraught," she admitted. "Angry. Sad. Shocked."

Harry didn't respond, only stared at the ugly puke-green paint.

"I brought you some tacos," Gemma tried. "I know the food here's probably shit, so."

Harry smiled at her gratefully. "You're the best, Gem."

"Obviously," she rolled her eyes, grinning.

Once the mood wasn't so heavy, they chatted on for another hour, Gemma updating Harry on various town gossip, on her life, her boyfriend.

"Holly's _pregnant_ now, can you believe it?" she squealed. "I laughed so fucking hard when I found out. Thank god it wasn't yours."

Harry's eyes bulged out of his head at the news of his ex-girlfriend. "You're kidding me!"

Gemma shook her head. "Nope! She's huge now, too." She reached out her hands on front of her stomach, indicating the extent of Holly's pregnancy.

Harry guffawed loudly. "This is fucking great. Almost makes me glad I'm in here; it probably _would_ be mine had I not gotten arrested and ruined her precious little image of perfect posh girl."

"I think she's ruined that one in her own," Gemma interjected, making Harry burst out laughing again.

This felt good; it'd been a while since he'd been able to laugh so freely. The amount of drama in his life had increased substantially since his arrest, and it felt nice to let loose for a bit, to feel normal.

Soon it was time for Gemma to leave ("I promise I'll visit you again very soon!"), so she packed up her things—Harry had eaten her tacos, a Styles family specialty—and hugged her brother tightly.

"You know," Gemma whispered, "Mum _did_ come to see you—about a week ago."

Harry's eyes widened. "Why didn't I—"

Gemma shook her head sadly. "She couldn't go through with it. Sat in the waiting room for about twenty minutes chatting to some lady named Mrs. Thomas, or maybe it was Tomlinson or something? The woman told her about her own son, and it scared Mum right out of here."

Harry stood in front of his sister, suddenly having gone pale, and stared at her with his eyes wide. "Did you say Tomlinson?"

Gemma nodded, evidently confused.

"As in, _Louis_ Tomlinson?"

Gemma nodded eagerly. "Yes, that was his name! D'you know of him?"

"Yeah, I, uh—" Harry stopped, not quite sure he wanted his sister to know anything about Louis. "I've seen him around."

His sister gasped. "That's insane. Honestly, I don't know how you do it, being around all these crazies."

"What did he do?" Harry whispered, holding his breath.

"Apparently he'd burned his school down when he was sixteen. It was so unexpected that no one was prepared, and about three hundred kids died."

Harry let his breath out in one big exhale, slumping back in his chair. "Holy fuck."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feedback would be cool mhm

"Harry, d'you wanna golf?"

"Harry, what if I still lived in LA? D'you reckon I'd meet Liam?"

"Harry, this chicken is fuckin' delicious—try some!"

"Harry, did I tell you about that time I met Lindsay Lohan?"

"Get out of the way, you arse!"

Harry was pushed into the nearest wall, making no effort to break his fall. He slumped to the ground, sitting there in the shock and horror that had consumed him all week.

Harry's irresponsiveness worried Zayn and Niall, who'd been pestering him, asking what was wrong. Zayn predicted it was the initial shock of the realisation that he was imprisoned that finally dawned on Harry, but both boys had seen a definitive change in Harry's attitude, uncertain of what exactly caused it.

All Harry could think about was Louis. The blue-eyed monster had quite literally disappeared for a week; Harry woke up and went to bed alone, hearing none of the usual ruckus from or about Louis throughout the day. This bothered him much more than it should have. What bothered him more, though, was the nagging thought that never left his mind. He'd—he'd _killed_ people. Kids at his school.

Three.

Hundred.

Of them.

What was that like? Harry wondered. Being responsible for the deaths of so many people? Was it a careless accident? Was it purposeful?

Did Louis regret it?

 _I'm not the monster everyone thinks I am, Haz, despite what the past may hold_.

But he'd been so—so _caring_ , so sweet.

 _I'll never let anyone hurt you_.

Was that all a lie? A manipulative, sick, sick lie? Was Louis just some insane sociopath who'd managed to fool everyone for the last eight years of prison?

Was Harry just one of the few who fell for it?

***

The man before Harry adjusted the baby blue tie that matched too perfectly to his navy Armani suit.

"I've heard, Mr. Styles," his lawyer coughed, "that you've been neglecting your required duties as an inmate here at Wandsworth."

Harry sighed. "I've been...otherwise occupied." He cringed inwardly at his vague, obvious lie.

Armani Suit pressed his lips into a tight line. "Your family and I, or rather your family's money, have pulled as many strings as possible to get you the least harsh punishment you can get. If I may be candid with you, Mr. Styles, it would probably benefit you to at least _try_ to perform the few tasks that are required of you while you are here."

His thinly veiled condescending mordancy annoyed Harry, who merely nodded dismissively at his lawyer.

"If you fail to complete your service work, your stay will be extended," Armani continued, "to what I predict would be at least six or seven years. The consequences of your actions are up to you, as always."

Harry exhaled loudly. "I know, I know."

"Well, it doesn't seem like you _do_ ," his lawyer pointed out in a malicious tone.

"Thought you were supposed to handle his case, not bitch at him like a worried mum," a familiar voice interrupted the conversation.

Harry whipped around to see Louis peeking into the room, the heavy wooden door slightly ajar.

Louis' eyes shined brightly, looking past Harry at Armani Suit, who narrowed his eyes menacingly. "Sir, I believe you have no right being present in this conversation."

Louis simply smiled cheerily at him. "Just here to find Hazza. I'd like a conversation with him myself." His eyes found Harry's, but the chocolate-haired boy looked down, unable to meet Louis' eyes for more than a few seconds.

"Our meeting will be over shortly," Harry told his lap.

"Actually," his lawyer stood up. "I think it's over now. Please take my words into consideration, Mr. Styles."

Harry nodded, still not looking up, and Armani Suit straightened his blue tie once more, and left the room, glaring at Louis slightly as the blue-eyed boy held the door open for him. He let the door shut with a bang and ambled toward Harry, scraping a chair across the floor cacophonously and plopping himself down in front of the other boy.

"You alright?" Louis peered at Harry closely.

Harry wasn't sure if he meant it as a greeting or if he was genuinely asking him the question, but he merely nodded at his lap once more. He expected Louis to speak again, but a silence fell upon them.

"Where've you been?" Harry asked quietly.

Louis suddenly seemed too close, too _near_. After not having seen him for a week, Harry almost forgot just how _real_ Louis was.

Louis grunted. "Just out and about." He smiled briefly at Harry, but it didn't reach his eyes.

They sat like that for another few minutes, not looking at each other.

Finally, Louis spoke up. "Has anyone else...tried anything with you?"

Harry glanced up at him, finding the too-blue eyes practically penetrating his soul. Louis was worried.

Harry looked back down, shrugging. "No, I guess not."

Louis nodded, thinking. "Because...cos if anyone had, then--well." For the first time, Louis seemed to be the one searching for the right words to say. He offered Harry another small smile that almost plead for forgiveness.

"What," Harry looked at him with a vacant expression.

"I wouldn't let them hurt you," Louis stated firmly.

Harry almost rolled his eyes. "Great job you've been doing."

Louis narrowed his eyes. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Well, I think that to look out for someone, one has to be within some sort of proximity of the person he is looking out for," Harry's voice dripped with sarcasm.

Louis' eyes dropped to his lap. "I'm sorry, okay? I can't fucking be around you always," he said defensively.

"It might help if you didn't disappear for a fucking week!" Harry raised his voice, face reddening. He looked at Louis finally, green eyes piercing into blue.

Louis stood up. "I—" He shook his head. "I can't do this." He abruptly left the room, not looking back.

***

"Is something weird going on with you and Lou?" Zayn asked Harry suddenly between forkfuls of mashed potato.

"No—I mean, I don't know, really? What do you mean?" The food in Harry's mouth tasted bland all of a sudden.

Zayn raised an eyebrow. "I _mean_ that every time I bring you up in conversation, he always gets all quiet and changes the subject. Did something happen?"

"Do you talk to him a lot, then?" Harry asked, not answering the question.

Zayn squinted at the curly-haired lad. "Yeah, I guess. I mean, he's been sleeping in my cell for the last week." He blushed suddenly.

Harry just nodded at him slightly and got up to throw his now-unwanted food away. He returned to the table and watched Zayn stuff his face even more. "Your appetite seems to have returned," Harry commented, ignoring the question still.

Zayn reddened again. "Yeah, I guess it did."

"Must have been fun for Lou to watch you mope about with the telly," Harry continued.

Zayn stopped, just as he was about to take a sip from his juice glass. He looked up at Harry, setting it down carefully. "You slept with him." It wasn't a question.

Harry shrugged. "As have you, apparently."

Zayn shook his head. "Look...Lou is complicated. He's the most insecure person ever, so he feeds on the control he has over others to boost his confidence. And well, sometimes it's impossible for him to do. Sometimes people get lonely, and," he laughed dryly, "well, I personally haven't gotten laid in ages, and sometimes a helping hand is nice," Zayn finished.

Harry nodded, clenching his jaw. "Okay."

"Okay?" his raven-haired friend echoed.

Harry got up and began to walk away.

"Okay?" Zayn called after him.

"I know what he did," Harry responded, not turning around to see the responding expression on Zayn's face as he rounded the corner out of the cafeteria.

***

Harry spent the rest of the evening with Niall, pushing his worries farther and farther away with each hit of the little white ball.

He almost forgot about Louis and his weird mood swings and his stupid ego and the pictures in Harry's mind of those tiny tan hands splattered in blood. He almost forgot about Louis' demanding tone of voice and his bright blue eyes and the blissful expression on his face when he moaned out Harry's name as he came.

Almost.

"Mr. Styles?" a voice called out over the golf course. It was a staff member, dressed in the drab grey uniform required of them to wear.

Harry raised his hand and the man approached him. "Due to your neglect of your service work, we've revoked your privileges on this golf course," he stared at Harry with a bored expression. "Your privileges will be returned to you if you continue your chores for two weeks, every day, on time," he continued. "You must return to your cell at once and remain there for the rest of the night."

Harry sighed. After the meeting that morning, he decided he needed to get his shit together if he was ever to leave Wandsworth, but then _Louis_ had to come and cloud his judgment, making Harry forget all about good decisions.

He followed the man back to the prison, giving Niall an apologetic glance, at which the blond boy merely shook his head.

***

"Get up!" The hushed whisper woke Harry, who felt something pounce on him.

He opened his eyes slowly. Louis was a few centimetres away from his face, grinning mischievously at him.

"What are you doing?"

"Staying with you tonight, if I'm gonna be keeping my promises," Louis laid down beside Harry.

They stayed like that for a while, neither saying a word. But Harry felt strangely comforted; Louis' presence gave him a peace of mind, despite everything.

"You slept with Zayn." Harry had to bring it up.

Louis shifted uncomfortably, but didn't reply.

Harry wanted to be angry with him. He wanted to use every reason he had to pretend that he didn't want to pounce on Louis right now and kiss his brains out. Knowing what he'd done somehow didn't scare Harry; he felt strangely safe with Louis.

"We dated at one point," Louis finally said, breaking the silence.

Harry widened his eyes. "Are you—was that..?"

Louis shook his head quickly. "No, no--that was just...sex, I guess."

Harry nodded, absorbing the information.

Louis shifted closer to the curly-haired boy so that his head fit perfectly in the crook of Harry's shoulder. Harry stiffened, but Louis just snuggled into him even more, and he eventually relaxed.

"I know what you did," Harry mumbled, looking up at the bottom of the upper bunk.

"Who told you? Did—Zayn said he wouldn't, I thought—"

Harry shook his head, turning so that he was facing the blue-eyed boy. "Not Zayn. Just heard..."

Louis' frantic expression calmed down, and he cast his eyes away, looking guilty. "It wasn't...you need to know that it wasn't like that."

Harry shifted so that his entire body was facing Louis. For some reason, he was ready to listen; Louis' past freaked him out a bit, but if he had a good reason, Harry believed him.

"I...it was dumb. The stupidest thing I've ever done." Louis sighed, not looking at Harry. He took a breath. "When I was fifteen, I came out," he began. "It wasn't something I expected receiving negative attention for; I was—popular, I guess. People knew me." Louis swallowed. "I just figured—I thought they wouldn't mind. I thought I'd be okay." He shook his head. "But the next year of my life was _hell_. All of my friends abandoned me. My parents pretty much disowned me—they didn't want a 'queer'—" he put finger-quotes around the word, rolling his eyes, "—for a son. I spent most of my time at work, flipping burgers. I hated coming home because I was treated like I was invisible. But school was even worse--nobody ignored me; instead, I was pushed around like I wasn't even human. Like I didn't _deserve_ to be human." He exhaled heavily.

Harry reached an arm out, curling it around Louis' middle until his chest was pressed into Louis' back.

"I almost killed myself," Louis muttered quietly.

Harry squeezed him in closer, wanting to never let go; it was his turn to keep Louis safe.

"But I didn't. I freaked out. I had no control over my life anymore. I hated everything and everyone, and I wanted them to feel what they made me feel; I wanted them to be as scared as I was, to see the fear in their eyes that no doubt they saw in mine. I wanted revenge," he said simply. "So one day, I skipped class. Right before lunch, I poured a ton of gasoline around the cafeteria, and sneaked into the janitors' office, taking the keys. Once everyone was inside, I locked the doors and bolted them, making sure no teachers were outside." Louis' hand trailed down to where Harry gripped his waist, lightly tracing each finger. "And I struck the match."

Harry gasped softly, even though he knew it was coming. "Three hundred people," he mumbled into Louis' hair.

Louis nodded. Harry was kind of glad he couldn't see his face, because he didn't know what kind of expression lurked there.

"Do you regret it?" Harry asked quietly.

Louis shifted around until he was facing Harry. His normally shining bright eyes were dark and broody. He shook his head. "No. It might've been stupid to do, but I don't. I can't bring myself to. It was...incredible," Louis' face twisted into a sick sort of smile. "To be able to hold that sort of power over someone," he continued, "to be able to hold that sort of power over _three hundred people_. It _was_ worth it."

Harry nodded, swallowing.

Louis suddenly reached out a hand, at which Harry flinched on instinct. Louis looked hurt for a second, but he rested his hand on Harry's cheek, cupping his chin. "I'm sorry if that freaked you out," he whispered with sincere eyes. "I just wanted you to hear the story as it happened, not from someone else's mouth. Most people here are so intimidated by me," Louis laughed dryly, "because they think I'm some ruthless pyromaniac that'll kill them in their sleep. Scared of me cos I did it when I was so young—they think I'm some sort of sociopath. Can you believe I've been in here for eight years already? Wasted my life. At least here I'm accepted, and that's...well, it's nicer than the alternative, you know? Nicer than living in the _real_ world, where society's more ruthless than me."

"Nice to be able to exercise control over people than the other way around," Harry spoke up.

Louis nodded slowly, then cocked his head. "You were different, Harry. You weren't scared of me."

Harry snorted at that. "Are you kidding me? I was terrified."

Louis nudged him softly. "But you _liked_ it." He grinned at Harry when the younger boy blushed. He moved so that he was on top of Harry. "You can't even deny it." His eyes sparkled mischievously.

Suddenly, Louis flipped the chocolate-haired boy over in one swift move (which Harry couldn't understand because Louis was so _small_ ). Louis leaned down, resting his head on Harry's shoulder. "You _love_ me being in control, don't you?"

Harry whimpered softly, and Louis grinned to himself, sitting up again so that he was straddling Harry from behind. He trailed his fingers down Harry's spine, and slowly began to undo the velcro straps on the back of the jumpsuit. Harry shimmied out of the orange material, left in a white T-shirt and his boxers. Louis slipped his hand under the T-shirt, rubbing small circles in Harry's skin. "So pretty," Louis mumbled, "like porcelain." Harry shivered at the touch, and closed his eyes, relishing the feeling.

Louis left Harry's shirt on, and moved to his boxers, slipping one tan finger after another under the waistband until he was tugging them off. He leaned towards Harry again. "You know what I hate, hmm, Harry?"

"What?" Harry breathed.

"I hate," Louis sat back up again, "when you spend so much time with that stupid cafeteria boy," he growled, slapping one hand down on Harry's ass.

Harry flinched. He felt himself grow hard against the mattress.

"I."

 _Smack_.

"Fucking."

 _Smack_.

" _Hate it_."

 _Smack_.

Harry was writhing below him now, the blanket clenched tightly in his fists. His ass was on fire. "We're just—"

 _Smack_.

"Did I say you could talk, hmm?" Louis whispered in Harry's ear.

"N-no," Harry answered weakly.

Louis sent another smack to Harry's bum. "Then don't."

By now Harry's ass was stinging so much, he could barely move. He was painfully hard, rutting against the sheets, squirming uncomfortably.

"You like that, hmm, baby?" Louis gripped Harry's triceps and stilled his arms so he wasn't floundering about as much.

Harry moaned in response.

Louis gripped harder, no doubt leaving marks that will show up as purple bruises the next day. "Open your eyes," said Louis firmly, "and _answer_ me."

Harry fluttered his eyes open to see Louis' deep cerulean orbs piercing into his own. "Y-yes," Harry whined.

A cheshire-like grin spread over Louis' face. "Good," he cooed. "You love it when I rough you up, leave you so _sore_."

" _Yes_ ," Harry sobbed into the pillow. He felt his hands being torn away from the death grip he had on the sheets beneath him. Louis took both of Harry's wrists in his hands, pulling them back so that he was in complete control of Harry's body. He pulled the curly-haired boy up so that Harry was on his knees.

"I don't think it's quite enough, do you?" Louis murmured in Harry's ear, tugging harder on his wrists, almost cutting off circulation. "I think you want to be bruised up a bit more; I think you want to be _throbbing_ tomorrow."

Harry moaned again, pushing his ass back on the hardness that he felt against his bum.

"Mmm, _that's_ what you want, hmm, babe."

Harry was pushed back down into the mattress with such force, that his heart was pounding rapidly, almost suffocating from being shoved down like that.

He heard Louis fumbling with his clothes, until he felt Louis' cock poke into his back. Harry shivered at the contact.

"Head up a bit, babe." Harry was confused, but did as he was told. Louis pushed two fingers into Harry's mouth, ramming them so deep into his throat that he almost choked. "Make them nice and wet, mmm?"

Harry sucked on Louis' small fingers, slicking them up with as much saliva as he could. Louis slowly took his fingers out, and slipped one in Harry's ass gently. The boy beneath him writhed against the contact, pushing his ass back to take in more. Louis slid a second finger in, and Harry held his breath until it didn't ache as much. "Move," he breathed.

Another smack on his ass met his words. "Who's in control here, Harry?"

"Y-you," Harry answered, closing his eyes.

"That's right. Don't tell me what to do." But Louis began to move his fingers in and out of Harry, crooking them up and scissoring until he found his prostate.

Harry whined as Louis hit it, grinding his hips against the sheets. "You don't cum until I say you can," Louis reminded him.

Harry whimpered at that, clearly having trouble restraining himself. Louis grinned, slipping his fingers out. Harry opened his eyes, feeling strangely empty without them. He turned his head back at Louis to see what the other boy was doing.

Louis grinned at Harry, but his eyes were dark. "You little _whore_ , so filthy—was that not enough for you?"

Harry shook his head slightly. "Please—" he rasped.

Louis slicked his cock with his spit, and lined it up with Harry's hole, pushing in in one hard thrust.

"F- _fuck_." Harry closed his eyes again, unable to keep them open because the feeling of being so full was overwhelming. He pushed back on Louis' cock, meeting his thrusts perfectly in a hard, fast rhythm.

"God, Harry—yes," Louis moaned. He grabbed a hold of Harry's wrists again, pulling them back as his hips snapped against Harry's bum.

Harry cried out as Louis did this, and wondered how it was possible to feel such pleasure from so much pain. His ass cheeks were still hurting, and Louis' nails were biting into Harry's wrists. He was almost certain that the action was drawing blood. Not to mention the fact that this was the first time he had ever had anything in his ass, especially something that was moving at such a rapid speed, filling him up and drawing back out again.

It felt slightly weird—and it _was_ slightly weird, Harry realised—but he couldn't pause to think about that now because each time Louis' cock slammed into his prostate, each time he heard Mr. I'm-Always-In-Control emit strangled noises of helplessness, Harry couldn't think about anything at all, being so heavily consumed in the feeling.

"Fuck, you're so _tight_ ," Louis breathed. His strong grip on Harry's hands loosened, indicating how weak he'd become. He moved his hands to Harry's hair, pulling tightly as if holding on for dear life.

Harry gasped, almost cumming right then and there. He didn't know what it was, but the feeling of Louis' small hands grasping Harry's locks wound him up insanely.

Louis must have noticed this, and pulled out quickly, ignoring Harry's whines of protest. "Not yet, baby." He flipped Harry over so that he was laying on his back. "Wanna see that pretty face of yours."

Harry stared up at Louis, seeing how his fringe was pushed back, drenched in sweat, seeing the dark lust in his eyes, seeing the twitch of _want_ in Louis' cock. He licked his lips and watched Louis' eyes widen.

"You're _obscene_ , did you know that?" Louis shook his head.

Harry looked back up at him innocently.

"Those _lips_. Fuck." Louis bit his bottom lip, quickly thinking something over. "I need those lips," he decided.

Harry furrowed his eyebrows, not understanding. Louis' eyes trailed down to Harry's prominent collarbones, his hardened nipples, the flat planes of his stomach, down to where his precum stained his skin, cock throbbing and unattended. Louis smirked at this, but made no move to change Harry's situation. Instead, he shifted himself forward, until he was pretty much sitting on Harry's chest. He rested the tip of his cock on Harry's red lips, coating them in sticky wetness. Harry stared up at him curiously, parting his lips. Louis shoved his cock in, making Harry gag slightly, but he quickly adjusted and took in all of Louis' length, closing his eyes once more.

Louis clenched his jaw, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of Harry choking on his cock. It was just so _hot_ , and he wanted to see Harry as vulnerable as he could get him. Without thinking, he reached a hand out and plugged Harry's nose. The younger boy's eyes snapped open in fear, realising he couldn't breathe.

Louis just nodded at him to keep going, so Harry did just that, trying his best not to choke, letting Louis fuck his throat.

"God, baby, you're so good." Louis moaned at the sight of Harry's glassy eyes, tears forming at the corners. His face was reddening, and Louis knew that if he didn't pull out soon, Harry was probably going to pass out. The knowledge of this excited him even more, and suddenly he was spilling into Harry's mouth, painting his dark pink lips in white. He pulled out slowly, taking in the sight of a completely spent Harry. The boy beneath him swallowed every last drop, licking his lips clean, and stared up at Louis expectantly, waiting for his next command.

Louis shook his head. "Fuck, Harry, you are absolutely _filthy_." He leaned down, kissing Harry hard. "Such a slut," he muttered against Harry's lips.

"Lou, can—" Harry stopped, blushing.

"What do you want, baby?"

Harry didn't respond, just grinded up against Louis' ass, reminding the boy on top of them that only one of them had come.

Louis' eyes twinkled. "Tell me what it is you want, babe, or I can't give it to you..."

Harry bit his lip. "Wanna be—wanna be inside you ," he mumbled. "Can—?" He blushed again.

Harry's compete and utter submissiveness, his _innocence_ drove Louis insane. "You want me to ride you, is that it, hmm?" He almost laughed, if the sight of Harry like this didn't overwhelm him so much.

Harry nodded.

Louis pretended to think it over. "I suppose you deserve that." He looked down at Harry. "D'you think you've been a good boy for me?"

Harry nodded quickly, rutting up against Louis. The older boy tsked. "So impatient, are we?"

When Harry opened his mouth to apologise, Louis just chuckled. "You've been _perfect_ for me." He leaned down again and kissed Harry softly, tasting his own cum on the other boy's lips.

Louis reached out, taking Harry's hands and placing them on his ass. He lifted himself up, and slammed down onto Harry's cock in one swift move. Harry moaned loudly, no doubt waking up at least their whole hallway if not the entire building, but both boys were too consumed to care.

Harry grasped Louis' ass firmly, letting Louis impale himself on Harry's length, bouncing up and down. Louis threw his head back, practically mewling at the feeling. "God, Harry—so _big_ , fuck."

It didn't take much for Harry to come; he was already so close, but Louis had hardened again, and desperately ordered Harry to cum, which Harry did at once, spilling inside of Louis in hot pulses, filling up the older boy. They rode out their orgasms together—Harry's obedience did it for Louis, and he painted Harry's stomach white, surprising himself that he could come again so quickly. He slumped onto Harry as they both finished. Harry wrapped his arms around the smaller boy, kissing him softly on the head.

"I'm sorry for sleeping with Zayn, baby," Louis mumbled sleepily as they both drifted off into their own dreams, holding each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey you got louis' story yeaaaah fun

**Author's Note:**

> i will probably never finish this fic but if u wanna help me out im @astrolougy on twitter


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